**

The Tokyo in Ozu Yasujiro's memory is the golden night view seen through the gate of the five-chome eel shop when the Ginza Hattori clock rings at eight o'clock at night. The Tokyo in Lu Xun's memory was when he saw fireflies dancing gracefully on the Edogawa River through his dormitory window on a summer night. The Tokyo in Haruki Murakami's memory is living in a narrow, dilapidated house shaped like a slice of cake, enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze that pour into the house for free. The Tokyo in the memory of old Tokyoites is all about wind chimes, coal stoves, mosquito coils, tatami mats, and the always happy and poor life before the 1964 Tokyo Olympics. The Tokyo I remember is digging for clams in the shallows of Tokyo Bay in the spring, catching eels on the Kanda River in the summer, and listening to music from the past in the century-old wooden concert hall in Ueno Park. These beautiful scenes of yesterday are still vividly performed in front of the eyes of my generation of Tokyoites...